I Will Wait I Will Stay
by ToriKat
Summary: Sequel to "Cicutam Et Rosa". Life after The Reichenbach Fall. Recommended that you read "Cicutam Et Rosa" before this. x
1. Chapter 1

_(Right so I'm living in Germany now! Whoop! Also, if the times, etc., don't match up in this, seriously, please just go with it, I'm begging you. I tried, but I'm not perfect, and I don't know if I can make it completely right .Anyways, I'm sorry this took forever, and I hope you like it, even if it's a tad short. Much love!)_

I missed London.

I missed the city. I missed the noises. I missed the people. Certain people. I missed working at Bart's. I missed being okay. I missed being Rose O'Hara. I missed my tiny flat… I missed those bloody annoying deductions.

Sebastian and I had moved around a lot after leaving London. We'd even debated going to America… But, due to certain pressing matters, that plan was abandoned. And now, we were settled in a very very small town right smack in the middle of France. I didn't know how long we would be able to stay, but I hoped for a while. I didn't like moving around. Besides, we'd finally gotten everything unpacked today. It was definitely a day for celebrating.

Lugging the bag of groceries back up my shoulder, I quickly made it across the street, and to the tall building I now had to call home.

We had a flat, big enough for our needs, but not extravagant. Of course, we could afford far more, but when trying to stay hidden and unbothered, one doesn't buy extravagant things. In fact, where we lived honestly looked like a tiny dump on the outside, with paint peeling and all that. But it was actually cozy, warm, and bigger on the inside…

Like a TARDIS.

_John._

I swallowed hard, and let myself into the building, shaking away my thoughts. Now was not the time to think about my past- It was never the time to think of the past. It's strange how silly little things can bring everything crashing back down again. I'm lucky to have Seb with me. He understands. And if one of us can't handle it anymore, we have the other one to save us. Every time. I fear for the moment that one of us is too late.

Trudging into the kitchen, I began putting up the groceries, then put on water for a cuppa. It was then that I saw the note stuck to the fridge, and I smiled, reading it.

_**'Gone to pick up the Captain. Left you a present in the living room, Madam. Happy Officially Moved In Day! Yours, Seb.'**_

I laughed a bit, and went into the living room curiously. There on the coffee table was a vase full of red roses. I shook my head, but smiled. He only gave me roses on special occasions, or if I needed a cheer up. Apparently having fully moved in was a special occasion. I was about to go back into the kitchen to fix my tea when a flash of white in the bouquet caught my eye. Frowning, I went over to get a closer look, and my eyes widened when I realized what it was.

There, among the Roses, was a sprig of Hemlock.

I straightened up, and immediately picked up the vase, and carried it over to the high bar in the kitchen, already picking out several choice words to use. What was he THINKING? Hemlock? That doesn't even… Sure, I recognized it was poisonous, and I wouldn't do something as stupid as ingest it, but-

My thoughts were interrupted by cheerful voices coming up the stairs, and I quickly wiped the angry look off of my face, just as I heard the door open.

"… Oh really? And what did Amy do?"

"She said she would be my first mate! I know she's a girl, but it's Amy, so I don't think she counts- MUMMY!"

I beamed at the pair standing in the doorway, and knelt down to hug the little boy running into my arms.

"Kieran! How was school, Love?"

Kieran pulled back to frown at me. "_Captain_ Kieran, Mum."

I nodded solemnly. "Right, yes of course, Captain. Would the Captain like a snack?"

He nodded quickly, his wispy hair falling into his face, and I stood to get him a juice box and crackers. Sebastian smiled at me, and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.

"Afternoon. How was your day?"

"Good. And yours?"

He shrugged, and I snorted before handing Kieran his snack, yelling for him to keep the mess minimum as he raced up to his room.

I waited to hear the door slam before rounding on Sebastian, who was caught by surprise, halfway through biting into an apple.

"What the hell is that?"

His gaze followed my pointing finger to the bouquet, and he frowned, speaking with his mouth full.

"Wha'dya mean?"

I sighed, and picked the hemlock out of the cluster of flowers gingerly, gesturing to it. He swallowed his bite, and stood, frowning.

"I didn't do that. I wouldn't do that."

I gave him a suspicious look while zipping the plant in a plastic bag, and throwing it away.

"I'm serious Rose. I wouldn't- We have a CHILD running around!"

We held each other's gaze for a few seconds, before I looked away.

"Then who did it, Seb?"

He met my eyes, and leaned against the counter, quiet for a while, tensing.

"I don't know. But they must've gotten inside the house somehow. "

"Who would it be?"

I whimpered out, reaching to clutch at his arm. Sebastian and I could handle ourselves, but it scared me- actually scared me- that someone had gotten into our house. I would never forgive myself if something happened to Kieran. Seb hugged me gently, rubbing my back.

"I don't know, but don't worry. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promised."

I swallowed hard, breathing in his now comforting, familiar scent, and breathing out slowly.

"I don't care about myself anymore, Seb. I just don't want anyone to hurt him."

My voice was choked up, and I heard him sigh.

"I know, Rose. I know."

_**############**_

_ "I went to the hospital today, Seb."_

_ He looked up at me in surprise before a frown decorated his features._

_ "You didn't tell me that… I would've gone with you."_

_ "I know."_

_ It was silent between us for a while, almost awkwardly. I didn't know how to explain to him why I'd gone alone… I myself didn't even know. Whenever I'd had it planned, I'd always pictured him coming with me to my appointment. But for some reason, I just went by myself. It was a surprise, just like the baby had been. A surprise I didn't know if I wanted yet. Maybe it was something I hadn't known I'd needed. Maybe the baby was too… My mind was racing, thinking of what to say as I watched Sebastian clean his rifle. His leg was bouncing up and down; itching for a smoke then. He'd taken to not smoking round me when we'd found out I was pregnant. _

_ "It's a boy, Seb."_

_ A smirk crossed his face, and he looked up at me._

_ "Heaven help you."_

_ I smiled a bit at that, and watched as he sighed, stood, and came over to sit beside me on the couch. _

_ "Heaven help US. The kid needs a father- I figure I need something to do in my spare time. Got any names? Let Sebby review them."_

_ I laughed at him, and snuggled into his side, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Sebastian WOULD be the child's father, or the closest thing to it. And honestly? It was such a comfort knowing Seb would be there, and he would watch out for us all. _

_ A family. We'd actually be a family. _

_ Not a normal one though. And that scared me. _

_ "Kieran."_

_ My voice was soft as I spoke the name. It felt right on my lips. I continued, speaking into the silence._

_ "It's Gaelic- means 'little dark one'… I thought it fit the time he was… conceived." _

_ Sebastian was quiet, but tightened his arm around me. I sniffled, and closed my eyes, taking a trembling breath. Finally Sebastian spoke._

_ "I think it's a good name. It's a strong name. And he will be strong, what with the mother he has."_

_ Emotion swelled up in my throat at his words, but I swallowed it back down._

_ "Let's hope he won't have to be."_

_ Seb suddenly pulled my face up to his, his expression fiery. _

_ "I'm not going to let anything happen to you or him, Rose. I promise. I promise on my life, I will take my last breath protecting you two."_

_ My eyes were saucers, staring into his, counting the flecks of gold in his irises. I didn't know what to say. What was there to say to the passion in his voice, the desperation, the love? What was there to say to the knowledge that every time he looked at me, Jim flashed through his mind? _

_ There is nothing you can ever say to that._

_ So I didn't say anything; I nodded, and he nodded back. And I spoke again. _

_ "Kieran Hamish."_

_ There was a flicker of something on Sebastian's face before he asked the question I knew he'd ask._

_ "… John's middle name?" _

_ I nodded, not making any move to explain. I didn't want to explain, nor did I think I COULD explain. It didn't need explaining in my mind. John deserved… Recognition. He deserved everything. He deserved so much better than the hell he got. _

_ Sebastian didn't ask for elaboration, and for that I was thankful. Instead he stood, and walked towards the hallway, stretching._

_ "It's late. And you need your sleep. You're sleeping for two now."_

_ He turned to face me when he reached the other side of the room, and watched me. I uncrossed my legs, but didn't get up, closing my eyes against the memories in my mind. _

_ "Kieran Hamish Holmes."_

_ My eyes opened, and my gaze focused on Seb, judging his reaction. He crossed his arms, and swallowed hard. Right then, explain. Explain the last name. _

_ "Sebastian, it's not… It's not… a problem. My name- HIS name… It's not a problem. It's just… He'll be the only thing I have left of-"_

_ My voice broke, and I shut my mouth, not trusting myself to be able to speak any more. Seb sighed, and opened his arms out to me. _

_ "Come to bed, Rosie."_

_**############**_

"Mummy, tell me a bedtime story."

I turned to face my son, who was tucked snugly into his blankets. Smiling, I went to sit on the foot of his small bed.

"Hmm, what kind of bedtime story?"

"Pirates!"

He spoke, pale eyes shining, as I brushed his dark curls out of his eyes. A miniature of his father. And just as brilliant too. The boy had the genes of a Moriarty and a Holmes; he was way ahead of the other kids his age.

I hoped his father would be proud.

I opened my mouth to begin a story, but Kieran continued on jabbering away. He did that a lot. Once he'd figured how to talk, he was off, and never shut up. So I listened to him tire himself out, ranting about school, and pirates, and Uncle Seb, and his teachers, and his friends at school, and-

"… Amy's Daddy is really really nice, Mum, he let us have an ice cream while we were waiting for Uncle Seb to pick me up from school. He asked about you again, and I said you were super fab-fabu-faboohlos like you always say."

I laughed, and tucked the covers in under his chin as he yawned.

"Hmm, well I'm glad you had a nice day, Dear."

"Mummy, where's my Daddy?"

I froze, staring down at the little boy clutching my hand. He had my nose, my lips, my same wide shaped eyes, his father's hair, brain, eye color. Here was my personal little piece of a dream, a dream faded and dead. An impossible dream.

But here was this ball of light, of peace.

Peace made in the darkest of times.

"M… Mummy? I'm sowwie, I didn't mean to make you sad."

I pulled myself out of my thoughts, and swallowed hard, putting a smile on my face.

"No, no, Kieran, Sweetheart. You haven't done anything, it's alright… Your Daddy is… well he's gone, Baby. There was a… a very very bad man-"

"Like a super villain?"

"Yes, like a super villain. And the very bad man wanted to hurt people. Hurt friends of your Daddy's. So your Daddy was very very brave, and he went to fight the bad man. And he won. But to win, he realized he had to… to uh… give himself up."

I didn't know how to tell a 3 year old that his father had died. I didn't know how to explain to him what all had happened. But that's when Kieran piped up, his small voice breaking the quiet.

"Like Captain America when he crashed the plane in the ocean?"

Tears filled my eyes, and I managed a smile, scooping my son up in a hug.

"Yes, Love. Like that."

"So Daddy's like a super hero?"

"Yes, Kieran. I suppose he is."

Kieran nodded, his eyebrows knitted in concentration as I tucked him in again, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Goodnight Kieran. I love you very much."

I made my way to the door after checking to make sure his nightlight was on.

"Night night Mummy. I love you. And I love Daddy."

I leaned against the doorframe, my gaze blurring from the tears filling my eyes.

"He loves you too, Darling. He loves you too."


	2. Chapter 2

Sebastian was a good father, despite what many would think. He cared for Kieran. I knew it was hard for him, to care for someone so like Sherlock. I knew it was. But he cared for my son like he was his own. Seb protected us, protected me; keeping the broken promise he'd made to my brother.

For those short few months before Kieran, our line of work took us all over the world. We'd made many enemies. But those enemies were either disposed of or we made sure they'd lost our trail. By the time Kieran was born, in a tiny hospital in South Africa, Seb was just cutting all the loose ties from our life.

Now that everything was – supposedly- taken care of, and we were settled in France, I suppose I thought everything would be fine. You never truly relax of course. Not with the life I've lived, the things I've done, and especially piling all that on top of being a mother.

So when we had the hemlock incident, I didn't know if I was surprised or not. Someone had finally caught up to us. But I was not moving again. Sebastian and I could take care of the threat. O we became even more guarded than usual. The hemlock was like a warning, and I couldn't help but feel like it was towards Kieran. Because honestly, two master assassins not recognizing hemlock? Funny joke. But a child? Not likely.

So we waited… And waited…. And waited.

Nothing. Nothing else happened. It worried me to no end, but Sebastian just held me, and told me it would be okay. That he would protect us. But I could tell he was worried. At night he'd hold me closer than normal, his rifle on the bedside table, a handgun under my pillow. (We shared a room, a bed. It was easier to have someone with you, next to you. Someone you trusted, at your most vunerable. It was better, that way. Easier to fill the endless void of our pasts). Kieran started sleeping with us, or we'd sleep with him.

And we waited.

And nothing happened.

Until, a month or two later, the day I found my obituary in the paper. Okay, well obviously it wasn't MINE, but it sure could've been. Sebastian pointed it out to me over breakfast, laughing.

"Rose DuPont, 26, passed away in a tragic accident-"

I just laughed, and waved the paper away.

"I told you it was a common last name. That's why I chose it."

So we laughed, woke up Kieran, and started our days.

But then, on my way home from work (office job; secretary. Boring, but necessary for appearance's sake) I got a frantic call from Seb.

"Rose… Rose, the house has been broken into… I… Things have been moved around, looked in. Especially your things."

I tensed, but tried to keep the edge out of my voice.

"I… Maybe it's a coincidence? You know there have been robberies lately."

"Rose, it's not a robbery. I don't think anything's been taken… The house isn't ransacked. Someone lesser might not have even realized someone's been here… No, someone came in, and carefully, meticulously went through the house. It… It has to be someone who… Who knows who we are."

And THAT fact was terrifying, more so than the actual break in itself. We'd been targeted, not for our house or our money… but because of our pasts. I told Sebastian to pick Kieran up early from school; to take him out for an ice cream or something. I wanted to look at the house. He protested of course, but I was firm. Besides, two sets of eyes were better than one.

So, when I arrived home, Sebastian gave me a tight hug, and then thrust my gun into my hands.

"Be careful. If ANYTHING happens, call me if you can. You have your gun, you know where my rifle is, and I KNOW you can use it. If you get any leads, DON'T do anything stupid, you hear me?"

I nodded, eyes wide at the amount of intensity in Seb's eyes.

"O… Okay."

He gave me one final look before rushing out. I turned to face the entrance to the living room, silence stretching before me. As I walked through the home, I realized what Seb said was true. There wasn't really a mess. I began to imagine the intruder, trying to think of the route they took, what their goal was. Obviously they'd come in through the door; Seb said it'd been ajar. SO they were smart enough, and skilled enough, to pick a lock.

That would've taken them into the kitchen first, and then the living room. There wasn't much at all touched in the kitchen that I could tell, and just a few things moved in the living room. We didn't keep much out, nothing like photos and such. We only put them up when company came over, for the sake of normality.

I checked the guest bathroom, but found nothing. It was as spotless as always. That left the upstairs, where the bedrooms were. I took the stairs slowly, and looked around when I reached the landing. The first door was to Sebastian and I's bedroom. The door was firmly shut, just as it'd been this morning. Of course, the intruder was careful, tried his hardest not to let it be known he'd been there.

I walked into the bedroom, looking around slowly. There was a lot more things out of place here, especially in the bathroom. Sebastian's drawers had been gone through, as had my toiletries and makeup. Frowning, I sat on the bed, confused. What had the intruder of expected to gain by looking at my hairdryer of all things? Things were starting to make less and less sense.

I made my way to Kieran's room, hoping nothing would be too off, but then I stopped when I came up to the door. It was flung wide open. I KNEW it'd been shut when we'd left in the morning. Stepping into the room, I realized that nothing, absolutely NOTHING had been moved around. It was like they hadn't even gone in the room. Why would someone who had SO METHODIALLY gone through the house making sure no one know they'd been there, not check the last room? And why would they blatantly give themselves away by leaving the door wide open?

I moved back into the doorway, staring into my son's room. Okay. So they came to the last room, and threw open the door, ready to search it… And something makes them stop. Something made them stop, and turn, and leave quickly without covering their tracks. It didn't make sense…

Unless.

Unless maybe they saw something strange, something they weren't expecting? Maybe they were shocked by something... But shocked by what?

…. Oh.

I swallowed, looking around Kieran's room. The intruder HAD been shocked. Because out of all the things they'd expected from two master assassins… It hadn't been a child.

But still, shock or no shock, why had it made them flee? I closed the door, and trudged back to my bedroom, deep in thought. None of this made sense. Did this break in have to do with the hemlock incident? Lying on my bed, I absent mindedly reached for the empty ring box I kept on my bedside table. It had… Sentimental value and I often found myself fiddling with it while thinking or stressed. It was right where it always was, and my blind hands found it easily… But I froze when I heard the soft –thunk- of something inside when I flipped it in my hands.

"What…?"

The ring box had been empty for years; I'd kept it that way… And now there was something inside. I stared at the small box, not breathing, before slowly opening it.

My breath came out in a strangled huff.

The ring sat in the box, staring up at me innocently. My family ring, a Moriarty heirloom… The same ring I'd sent Sherlock for Christmas all those years ago, to help him figure me out, to show my side. He'd kept it, on a chain under his shirt, every single day until he… passed. Sentiment. A quality he claimed he didn't possess. Except with me, except with the ring.

And now here it was, somehow, back in my hands.


	3. Chapter 3

I never told Seb. How was I supposed to explain it? That I'd given my family ring to the man he hated most? So I kept it secret, hidden in plain sight, inside its little black box. Meanwhile, I tried to figure out who might've broken in and given it to me. The last I knew, it'd been with Sherlock, and he… well he was dead. He jumped off the top of a fucking building, didn't he? So who had access to his… his possessions? Or… who hadn't, but had gotten to them anyway? And why give it back to me? It was obviously expensive. Why not pawn it off or something? It didn't make any sense to me.

I had to put my curiosities on hold, however, a week later when I got a strange call from Seb one night. I'd just gotten home from taking Kieran to his friend Amy's house for a sleepover and Sebastian was SUPPOSEDLY "out with a few mates from work".

"Rosie? I've got something you'll definitely wanna see. You know Ian?"

I perked up at the name. Ian had worked for my brother, under Sebastian and I, but still powerful. After Jim's death, Ian turned, and started trying to hunt Seb and me down. Apparently he didn't appreciate our new targeting of crime bosses.

"Yes of course I do. What is it? Did you get a lead on him?"

"I'm standing right in front of him. He's dead."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Seb, we agreed he wasn't one of our hits unless-"

"I didn't do it."

"Well then who the hell did?"

"I don't know."

I frowned, my mind racing. Why had Ian even been HERE, of all places? Tracking Seb and I? Okay, fine. But why hadn't he acted yet? He wasn't one for waiting. And… Who had it out for him? Were THEY tracking HIM? Did they know about US? Were we next?

"Where are you? I'm on my way."

Sebastian paused before speaking quietly.

"22 Hemlock Avenue. Flat 1."

I swallowed hard, hearing the street name.

"Okay. Be there soon."

I hung up, and rushed downstairs. This DEFFINETELY had to do with us.

_**############**_

The flat was in the basement, and obviously hadn't been lived in in quite a while. It was dusty and damp, a sickening smell in the air. The lock to the side door leading down to it, which was hidden easily by overgrown bushes, had been broken.

"How did you come across him?"

I asked Seb quietly as I circled the dead man on the floor. He was spread eagle, his facial expression one of terror, or shock. A bullet through the heart was what killed him. Obviously closer range than a sniper. I heard Sebastian laugh, and I turned to face him, arching my eyebrows. He showed me his phone.

"He TEXTED me, Rose. Told me where to meet him and everything… And when I got here…"

He gestured towards Ian's corpse with a grimace. I just sighed. Now was not the time to yell at him for going out on a mission alone. We had other, more important issues at hand to deal with.

"Did you see anyone?"

"No. I looked. But hey, you haven't even seen the best part."

He walked over, and bent down next to Ian's head, shining the light of his phone on the dark floor. There to the upper right, was a lowercase 'b' carved neatly into the floor.

_**##############**_

Sebastian and I eventually left, and slowly made our way back to my car silently. I was already trying to piece together what happened- or at least MORE of what happened. We got into the vehicle, and I pulled out of the crowed drive I'd parked in, heading for home. It was quiet for about 5 minutes before Sebastian spoke.

"Drop me off at the train station.

I frowned at him, taking my eyes off the road to give him a look.

"What?"

"The train station, Rose. I have what I need there. When I got Ian's message, I knew I might have to run afterwards. And… I need to. I need to find out who did this, okay? If someone's tracking down Jim's allies, then it's a danger for us. I'll track them, whoever they are, but first I need to lead them away from here, away from you, from Kieran."

"Seb-"

"I promised I'd take care of you, Rose. Let me."

I took a shuddery breath, trying to focus on driving, forcing my panic down.

"I can't lose you, Moran."

He was silent, and I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat. The train station was getting closer in my mind's map, and I was terrified. I couldn't be without him, I needed him. Suddenly I felt one of his large hands take one of mine from the steering wheel and hold it tightly. He never said anything, not until I'd parked the car in front of the massive brick building.

"Rose, you won't lose me, okay? I won't let that happen. And I'm only leaving because I know you; I know you can protect yourself and Kieran. You're strong, okay? Stronger than anyone else. Stronger than him… Stronger than them both."

I closed my eyes against the tears threatening to fall, against his words. His strong arms incased me in a hug, and I clutched him to me frantically.

"Promise me. Promise me I won't have to explain to Kieran why you never came back. Please, Sebastian."

He pulled away to place a soft kiss to my forehead.

"I'll be home in no time, Rosie."

It wasn't a promise.

Seb then got out of the car, giving me a salute, and sauntered towards the station.

And he was gone.

_**###############**_

When I arrived home, I sat in my car for a long time, doing all I could not to hyperventilate.

_Pull yourself together Rose. He'll be fine. You'll be fine. Everything. Will be. Fine._

I let out a half sob, despite my efforts against doing so, and immediately clapped a hand over my mouth. I was NOT going to fall apart. Not after everything I've survived.

_Think, Rose. FOCUS. Focus on helping Seb, focus on figuring out who killed Ian._

I willed my lungs to pull in deep breaths, and I tried to remember all the peculiar things that'd been happening lately. They HAD to all be connected, hat with the 'hemlock' similarity. So. Hemlock, a break in, my ring, 22 Hemlock Avenue, flat 1, a 'b' carved into the floor-

Something moving in my peripheral vision caught my eye, and I turned to look. There, tied onto the front door of my flat, was a blue scarf, blowing softly in the wind.

The realization hit me a like a ton of bricks.

The break in, the same day as that obituary… Kieran's room being left so abruptly… My ring… The hemlock… 22 Hemlock Avenue, flat 1, the 'b'…

221b.

My boys.

As if in a dream, I got out of my car, made my way to the door, and reached up to gently take the scarf into my hands. It was still soft, warm, and… It smelled like him. The scent was such a welcome smack in the face, and I felt a salty wetness spill down my cheeks. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I acknowledged that the door was open slightly, but it took a while for that thought to sink in.

Sherlock always shut doors. Always. Either quietly, carefully, as if not to upset evidence, or he slammed them. He couldn't STAND leaving doors open. But I did know a man who ALWAYS forgot to close doors, who aimlessly pushed the door behind him, but never with enough force. A man always trailing behind, caught up in the whirlwind that was Sherlock.

My dear John.

I pushed the door open, and began to ascend the stairs, still clutching that familiar blue fabric to my heart. When I reached the landing, I was met with violin music. A familiar, floating tune. One of welcoming; one of home.

And my world ceased to exist.


	4. Chapter 4

_(Hello my dears! I hope you've been enjoying the story so far! If you have any comments, suggestions, complaints, just leave a quick message or review. It'd be much appreciated! I only do this for you guys, so you guys should be happy right? I would like to clear up Hamish's age. He is ALMOST 5, not quite. Anyway. That's that. I hope you'll all have a LOVELY week. Much love xx))_

When I came to, I was on my couch. As my thoughts slowly came back to me I shot up, only to have gentle hands push me back down.

"Easy now, Rose. You fainted. Just move slowly, okay?"

I looked up into the direction of the voice, and met warm blue eyes. My green ones closed, and I took his hand in mine, clutching it.

"J… John… John, I'm sorry… I'm sorry, I'm so-"

"Shhh… No, no. No, Rose."

He sat, and pulled me close to him, to his warmth, his familiar comfort. I fell heavy into his arms, not quite believing it, even though I could see him, smell him, feel him. Feel the soft material of his cream jumper. He continued speaking, his fingers moving through my hair gently.

"I'M sorry, Rose. I was wrong. The things I said to you… Will you ever forgive me?"

I laughed softly, hugging him.

"You were forgiven the second the words left your mouth. It's not your fault. It's mine."

John let out a harsh breath, shuddery, and rested his chin on the top of my head.

"When he… he returned. When he explained everything to me… Of course he'd figured it out, about you, about everything… And I realized what I'd done to you… I was horrified… I thought we'd never find you again… I thought maybe you were… were dead. And I couldn't help remembering and realizing how all the things you've said and done made so much sense, even if I didn't see it at the time. You did everything for us. And… And I just-"

"_John."_

My voice was soft, but he stopped talking. I pulled away to look up at him, to study him. He looked older, like he'd been put under so much stress he didn't deserve. I kissed his cheek, and squeezed his hand in mine.

"I think you've gotten greyer, my dear."

He cracked a smile, letting out a strangled sort of laugh.

"Shut up."

I smiled, hugging him once more, then carefully stood.

"Are you… hungry or anything?"

John smiled a bit, following me into the kitchen.

"Actually I sent Sherlock out a bit ago to get some takeout. When you fainted he kind of had a small panic attack and was driving me up the walls. So I sent him out with something to do."

I smiled to myself as I put the kettle on. It was quiet for a bit, just standing together. And despite everything that had happened… It was comfortable. It felt right.

"H… How long has he been back?"

"Two years… And most of that time we've spent traveling, looking for you. He was gone for three years before, tracking down Mor- your brother's web. I think he'd hoped that you'd taken over, that he'd eventually make it to the top and find you… But you'd disappeared, along with Sebastian Moran. I think that worried him. He came back before he finished though. He 'needed me back'."

John sighed, shaking his head.

"I punched him. Broke his nose too."

"Good."

I made John and I each a cuppa, remembering the way he used to take it. John was quiet, and when I turned back around, he was looking fondly at me.

"I missed you."

His voice sounded sad, and I moved to push the mug into his hands.

"I missed you too. Now c'mon. Let's sit."

We got resettled on the couch, and sipped our tea quietly, as if it could fix all the words and years and what we've done.

Tea usually could.

"So how are you? Honestly."

I gave him my best 'Don't you dare lie to me, John Hamish Watson' face, and he sniffed looking down into his cup.

"I'm… okay. I'm better than I was… After you left, when Sherlock was gone, I… Well my limp came back, my PTSD. I think I might've been depressed. I never bothered to find out because I didn't care. But… now I'm better. I'm always better around him, aren't I? You remember how it was at the start… But I suppose it's for the best. And I've been very busy the past two years, tracking an 'Ian Harrow' with Sherlock… Did you know him?"

I nodded, quiet, watching John. I could tell he didn't really want to talk about himself, so I changed the subject.

"And… And how's… How's Sherlock?"

John hesitated, and worry began to fill me.

"He's… Well he's still Sherlock, that's for sure… But he's different. He was… alone for a long time, fighting for his life almost every day. He's killed a lot of people, Rose. He has nightmares now, like me… He's more protective of me, even though he doesn't need to be. He's stronger, but at the same time he's even more vulnerable… I think he… he KNOWS he's human now, and that scares him. When we found you, he didn't think. He wanted to just rush right in and… Well, that was before we found out about Moran. And the child… That night was a danger night for him. I had to watch him carefully. His biggest weakness is love. It blinds him. And I think he believes he doesn't deserve it."

I swallowed, a feeling of sadness washing over me, thinking over John's words.

"Well… just for… future reference… Sebastian and I aren't… I mean… He's gay. Quite thoroughly gay. And he's also hopelessly in love with my brother… Who happens to be quite thoroughly dead. So… That's that. He's a good man, really, John. I know maybe… not to you, or to Sherlock…. But he protects Kieran and I. He takes care of us."

John smiled a bit, finishing the last of his tea.

"Kieran? … Good name."

I nodded, and opened my mouth to speak again, but froze when I heard someone coming up the stairs. My brain sort of short circuited, and all I could do was internally freak out. John stood as the door opened, going to rescue overflowing takeout from gangly arms.

"John I didn't know what you wanted and the menu was a bit confusing because apparently when I have a panic attack, I forget that I know Mandarin so I think I just ordered everything and- oh."

Sherlock stopped his rambling as his gaze landed on me, and his next words came out on a soft exhale.

_"You're awake."_

He looked different. He held himself that same, had the same confident _(arrogant)_ aura, but… I could see him fidgeting a bit. His hair was shorter, and he seemed a bit thinner. Still just as muscular though. Somehow I know he would have more scars, physically and emotionally. Maybe ones messier than John's. In fact, he had on his face, stretching from his temple to his jaw, white against his slightly tanner skin. His black trench coat had been traded in for a grey pea coat, but that same blue scarf peeped out from his collar.

He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

I realized we were just staring at each other, wide eyed, and I blushed, looking down. John cleared his throat, and mumbled something about setting up dinner, before disappearing off into the kitchen. Sherlock finally stepped towards me, and I suddenly heard myself speaking.

"I wasn't working for him. I… I mean… I was, I was working with him but not FOR him. I didn't know his whole plan, or I would've-"

"Rose. I know. It's alright… I know you did whatever you could."

His voice was hoarse, broken sounding. I tried to speak again, but he wouldn't let me.

"I'm sorry… About the hemlock. I wasn't expecting a… a child. If I had known, I would never have… I would never hurt your… anything of yours."

He looked down at his feet, and I stepped up to him, not touching him, as if in fear that he'd disappear if I did.

"It's alright. Just… Don't do it again," I half-heartedly teased. "He's just like his father, all curiosity and adventure, never any caution. Just a hyper flash of curly black hair and green eyes. He thinks he knows EVERYTHING… Remind you of anyone you know?"

Sherlock's breath caught softly and he tilted his head up to look at me, eyes shining, voice soft.

"I… I thought it might have been John's… He told me you two had… had… After I'd died. I told myself I'd rather it be John's than Moran's… But I didn't know what I'd do if it- if he- wasn't mine. I've never wanted a family. I'd be… a terrible father. But… when now it's all I can think about."

I smiled sadly at him, and reached up to touch his cheek. He took in a sharp breath at the contact, his eyes fluttering closed, leaning into it.

"I missed your touch."

The words were murmured into my palm like a secret as he pressed his lips to my skin. Tears stung my eyes.

"Oh, my Dear… I've missed yours too."

His grey-blue eyes slowly opened to look at me, desperation written in them. I brought his head down to gently press my lips against his, and he picked me up, holding me against him. The kiss was slow, a warm heat to it. When I tasted his salty tears, I just kissed them away. Eventually he pulled back, just resting his forehead on mine. He was trembling, and I could feel his sense his panic building up, his grip on me tightening.

"Hey… Sherlock, Love, stay with me. I'm right here, okay?"

He nodded minutely, but his breathing slowed.

"Let's go eat dinner, yeah? It smells delicious. We can talk later."

Another nod.

So I took his hand, and walked him into the kitchen where John was waiting.


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner was… awkward. Silent. I don't think anyone knew what to say. There was _too much_ to say, and not enough words in the world to say it all. There were so many emotions strewn through the air. Disbelief and a hint of anger; relief was blatant, as was concern. It made the air thick, stuffy, suffocating. It was surreal- this was surreal. I was probably staring but I didn't care. They were there, right in front of me. Like it should've been all this time. I think I would've floated away from the absurdity of it all if not for the firm, warm pressure of Sherlock's hand on my knee.

God, I was so _relieved_. He was alive. He'd been alive the entire time… And I couldn't even be angry. Not fully angry.

Moriarty's sister didn't have the right.

I cleaned up after dinner, giving myself something to do. John helped, doing the washing, while I dried and put them away. Sherlock sat at the table, nursing a cuppa. I could feel him watching me. There were so many things I wanted to tell him, so many things he'd missed. But… I'd also missed things. We'd both changed. I mean, it'd been _five years_ since we'd seen each other. Five years too many. What were things going to be like now? There were so many complicated factors. It was scary, thinking about everything. Kieran, Sherlock, and I, Seb, John… I wanted to just act like nothing had happened, like Sherlock and John had always been there, like my brother had never existed… But that was impossible.

"Will you both stay here tonight?"

John leaned against the counter, wiping his hands dry.

"We can get a hotel-"

"Don't… I… I don't know if I can handle you two leaving again so quickly."

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I leaned into John, letting him wrap me in his arms. I closed my eyes, holding onto him tightly.

"Okay, Rose. We'll stay."

_**############**_

"Honestly, John, you should take my bed. This can't be comfortable."

I half-heartedly argued with the man across from me as I helped him put sheets on the couch-bed.

"Think of your shoulder."

John gave me a look, throwing two pillows on the mattress.

"Rose, its fine. Believe me, it'll be a lot more comfortable than what I've had for a bed the past few months."

I sighed, and started to speak again, but he held up his hand.

"Really, Rose. It's all fine."

I frowned at him, but finally dropped the subject. He laughed softly, shaking his head.

"Still the same. That's good… I was… afraid you'd be…"

"Me too."

He nodded, and sat heavily on his bed. I sat lightly beside him, resting my head on his shoulder, my cheek against the soft cotton of his white t-shirt. I felt more than heard him take in a deep, shuddering breath before he spoke.

"Is he… Sherlock's? Kieran I mean."

"Yes."

It was quiet between us again, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. I was scared to look at his face and find out… But then-

"Good…. Good, that's- good. He should be… Sherlock needs it I think…"

John cleared his throat.

"Sorry, I know that was intrusive, I just know we didn't use-"

"John. It's okay. You deserve to know."

I blushed a bit, and wrapped my arms around his waist in a hug.

"He has your middle name though. Kieran Hamish Holmes. I thought…. Well… I just wanted him to have a part of you. You're important."

I felt John relax a bit more, and rest his head on top of mine.

"Thank you, Rose."

We were silent, and the surrounding sounds seemed to grow louder. The noise of the town, the ticking of a clock somewhere inside, the running shower. I sighed when I heard the water shut off, and then stood.

"That'll be Sherlock… I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

I got a nod in return, and I watched the doctor burrow under his covers.

"G'night Rose."

"Night John."

I made my way upstairs slowly, feeling- stupidly- nervous. When I entered my room, I found Sherlock hunched over his bag, digging through it, with only a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. I sat on my bed, watching as he grabbed a pair of sweatpants, and then stood to face me.

"Hi."

His deep voice broke, and I watched a soft blush creep over his skin. I sniffed, forcing myself not to succumb to the welling emotion I could feel behind my eyes.

"C'mere."

He immediately obeyed, his long legs taking him quickly across the room. He dropped his clothing on my bed carelessly, and pulled me to him, his face buried into the crook of my neck.

"_Rose._"

I held him to me tightly, moving a hand into his curly hair, just savoring the feel of it again. He pulled in a shuddery breath, nuzzling his face into my skin.

"I love you. I love you."

His murmurs ran through my head and over my skin, giving me goose bumps.

"I love you too. I always will."

He whimpered, and pulled away to look at me.

"I know we have to talk. I know we do, and…. And I 'm not stalling, but I… tonight I just…"

He trailed off, struggling with his words, and I kissed him softly.

"It's okay. I know."

I got a smile in response, and then a soft kiss to my lips. It wasn't gentle for long, though, as our mutual need started getting the best of us. Soon I was being frantically rocked against, Sherlock making quiet little noises of want. Pulling apart from him, I tugged him by his hips, down and over me, lying on my bed. The white towel that had been clinging to his waist finally fell, and I smiled up at him.

"Let me see you, 'Lock."

Those pale eyes closed, just briefly, and I watched him swallow nervously before rolling onto his back beside me. I sat up, running a thumb over one of those ridiculous cheekbones, and smiled, before starting my way down his body, beginning at his head. I traced the long scar trailing down the side of his face with a fingertip, but then repeated the action with my lips after seeing him wince. Bypassing those perfect cupid brow lips, which earned me a little huff of frustration from him, I made my way down that long neck of his. When I reached his collarbone, I stopped to kiss a mark onto his skin, making him moan low and deep in his throat, one of his large hands moving into my hair to hold my head in place.

"P… Please, Rose. It's been so l… long… I want to s… see I'm yours again."

I blushed at his words, pulling away gently, but hiding my smile. He in turn arched his neck back, in an unspoken request for more, watching me through heavy eyelids. I brushed my thumb over the newly bruised skin before smoothing my hands over his chest. There was a ragged scar over the lower right side of his ribcage, much like John's, and then a long diagonal one across his abdomen. Those were the two that stood out, though there were plenty of other smaller scars littering his skin.

I reached down to touch the long one unconsciously, eyes wide, just thinking of what could have happened to him. Sherlock flinched, his hand immediately grabbing mine, his grip too tight. My head snapped up to look at him in surprised, and I saw a flash of guilt flicker across his face, even through the tears welling up in his eyes.

"I'm… Sorry… I'm sorry, I'm sorry… I…. I just… I'm sorry…"

His voice came out raw, an edge of panic to it, and I held his hands gently, worried.

"… N... No one's touched it since… John mended it, I… I can barely remember it happening; can barely remember the pain… I was just… attacked, left on the ground, bleeding out… Just knowing I was going to die, knowing that everything I'd done meant nothing. I'd die alone on a dirty floor, without John, without you…

"But John found me just in time; he seems to be forming a habit of that. I still don't know how he did it, I was so out of it, but I he saved me. Stitched me up, cared for me… I didn't deserve it, I still don't… Him staying, him caring, even after everythi-"

He cut off suddenly, blinking furiously, and I realized he was crying.

"… Sherlock-"

"-After everything I've done. To him. To you."

"_Sherlock._"

Kissing away his tears, I squeezed his hands gently. He looked up at me, sighing, and I sighed back.

"I love you. And if I can love you when you're acting like an arrogant child, I can, and will, love you through all of this."

Sherlock watched me uncertainly, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of my hands, before nodding.

"I love you too."

"Good. Now… Let's sleep okay?"

"But-"

"But nothing. It's late and we're both exhausted. Don't pretend you're not. "

I didn't wait for him to respond before I got up, putting his clothes back into his bag, and removing my own. After turning off the lights, I made my way back to the bed, climbing in and curling up next to Sherlock under the covers. His skin was a soft, warm comfort, and my hand found its way onto his chest, over his heart. A heart I knew existed, a heart whispering "_alive, alive, alive_" with every beat. Suddenly he spoke, his deep voice causing me to feel as well as hear the words.

"I have nightmares now. I don't know if I should sleep here, I don't want to-"

"John told me. It'll be okay. After all these years, I know how to handle the symptoms of PTSD."

Sherlock let out a short puff of air that I supposed was a laugh.

"John will be glad you're here to help me; it won't be left to him anymore."

"Are they really that bad?"

"… Sometimes."

Silence fell between us, and I just cuddled close to him, smiling a bit when one of his arms wound around me so he could stroke his fingertips idly over my hipbone. His lips pressed just behind my ear gently, before pulling away.

"Goodnight Rose."

My heart lifted once again to hear that voice say my name, and I hummed back softly, a small smile on my lips.

"Goodnight Sherlock."


End file.
